Cold Confessions
by your-lie-in-september
Summary: In which the nations of the world are snowed in, Japan looks pretty hot with his shirt off, Italy is a surprisingly good gambler, and England has a secret to tell. USUK and GerIta if you squint...


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia**

**AN: I know I don't usually put author's notes here but, this is a special case. So, this story is a product of my many snow days and unrelenting boredom. So… enjoy! **

Cold Confessions

"Take it off! Take it off!" Prussia yelled before taking another swig of beer. Nations behind him whooped and yelled behind him.

Prussia, being as awesome as he was, found the "secret" stash of alcohol. And being snowed in the meeting building, he found it to be the perfect opportunity to introduce to everybody.

Monaco, a good gambler much to everyone but France's surprise, grudgingly complied taking off her top revealing a white bra. She scowled as she heard the cat calls and the wolf whistles.

She mumbled something under her breath and walked away from the table.

Alfred watched as the snow outside continued to come down. He always loved the pure white snow that seemed to fall every winter in New York, clogging the streets and snaring traffic. Was European or Canadian snow different from American snow?

"Another glass, _Amérique_?" France asked hold a glass of red wine in his hand, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively. France had been supplying wine to America since the beginning of the impromptu game of strip poker and America had the sneaking suspicion that the Frenchman was trying to get him drunk.

"No thanks, dude," he said in reply. "At the rate you keep giving wine, I'm getting the feeling you want me to get drunk."

France laughed off the subtle accusation. He performed a small hair flip, tossing his golden blonde head back slightly.

"_Mon cher,_ you make me laugh," he rolled his eyes and set the glass beside the American. "If you change your mind." He winked and sauntered away his sights now set on some poor unsuspecting nation.

America peered at the wineglass warily but despite himself took the glass. It was one of the few times that Germany would dare let anyone have alcohol at the meeting, which was now in shambles ever since it began snowing.

At first, no one noticed the snow until it was pointed it out by Italy who began begging the German to build a snowman with him. This caused series of events: Italy dragging the reluctant German out the door, Prussia and several others rushed to the door locking out the said pair(much to everyone's pleasure), and they were all introduced to the meeting room's stash of booze.

The strip poker, Alfred had no idea where that came from. If he wasn't mistaken it was Italy, who was let back in with Germany, who suggested it.

"Take it off!" Prussia was yelling once again. "Come on Kiku!"

America turned his attention back to the game which now seemed focused on a quickly reddening Japan. The poor island nation was quietly murmuring under his breath, looking like he wanted nothing more but to disappear.

"Come on," Prussia slurred, obviously drunk. "You know the rules."

The poor Japanese man shook his head, eyes widening.

"Prussia-san…"Japan tried. The Prussian shook his head, his red eyes filled with a mischievous glint. "_Hai_."

The Japanese man blushed furiously as he slowly removed his shirt. Normally, he wore an undershirt in case there was a situation that required him to strip down. But, _unfortunately_, he decided not to wear his undershirt today of all days.

Gasps and cries were heard as Japan pulled his shirt off his head. He did a small hair flip to move his hair out of his eyes.

"Woah, Kiku you look… great," Taiwan whispered only loud enough for Japan. But America saw Japan's slight smile, knowing that having her approval made it all a bit better.

Hungary let out a squeal as she snapped pictures of Japan. Belgium was nursing a nosebleed and Liechtenstein was blushing profusely, much to Switzerland's disapproval.

But America had to admit, Kiku looked good. The guy wasn't big on skin exposure but he had a six pack and was surprisingly tan.

Japan, still blushing, shoved his shirt under his chair and kept his eyes on his cards.

Prussia smirked triumphantly. He had been the one to convince (pressure) him into playing for the sole purpose of seeing him nude.

"This just proves how awesome I am," the Prussian slurred as he took another sip of beer.

America coughed as several nations rolled their eyes at Prussia's declaration of self-awesomeness, knowing that it would only get worse as the game went on and as Prussia got drunker.

XXXoooXXX

"That's how we do it!" Prussia exclaimed proudly slurring his words as he laid down his cards happily.

Other nations threw their cards down on the table in defeat. Most of the nations had stripped down to their undergarments or simply quit before they lost more clothing than they needed to loose.

The only one playing who was fully clothed was Prussia.

"I'm out," Spain said after throwing his cards down. "As fun as this has been Prussia, I don't want to lose anymore more clothes." The Spaniard laughed uneasily and stood up from the table, gathering his clothes.

"Never heard that one before," Prussia laughed as Spain left the table.

Italy who had been hovering over the table for several rounds, much to Germany's dismay, looked thoughtful for a moment.

America suddenly became uneasy. A thoughtful Italy, strip poker, and a drunken Prussian were never a good mix.

"Ve- Prussia can I join?" Italy asked innocently. And much to everyone's surprise, Prussia nodded letting Italy in.

France nearly choked on his wine. Spain, now fully clothed, patted him on the back. Germany face palmed and muttered under his breath. Romano began to shout in fluent Italian at his brother while Japan paled.

"Hey Italy," Prussia said slurring, addressing Romano. "Make me a pizza."*

"You racist bastard," Romano spat as he took a seat next to his brother determined to help him.

Nations watched intently as the gambler threw down cards, moved chips, and took off articles of clothing. Many observers exchanged bets many betting that Prussia would come out on top of all this.

America decided not to bet. He and Italy had a weird connection. Italy was just too odd and unpredictable for him almost impossible to decipher at times.

"Read it and weep _Italien,"_ Prussia smirked.

Nations yelled making the whole affair a huge ordeal as some exchanges of money were made.

"Not so fast, _bastardo,"_ Italy deadpanned. "Royal flush."

Prussia groaned as Italy grabbed Prussia's chips. Romano smirked triumphantly at Prussia's "agonizing" defeat. Germany looked slightly frightened by his friend's suddenly darker aura.

'_Germany, scared of Italy? Huh, who could have thought?' he mused to himself. 'I wonder if-'_

His thoughts were interrupted as Prussia pulled off his shirt. Italy and Romano looked smug as Prussia cursed loudly. Other nations grumbled as money was exchanged again. Germany's face looked like a mixture of pride and fear as the said German took another drink of beer.

America found himself feeling similarly. He had known that Italy could gamble, usually not very well, but he hadn't known that the meek Italian could be any good at it.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he whirled around in surprised. It was France looking a bit _too_ happy.

"France, what do you want?" he asked the Frenchman.

"You may want to come with me," France said a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I think, _Angleterre_, has had too much to drink."

America resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Handling a drunken England was like trying to hold fire. It was impossible. All one could usually do was confiscate the Englishman's booze, drag him somewhere dark, put up with a drunken remarks about him being able to hold his liquor (which he clearly couldn't), and hope for the best.

"What do you want me to do?" America asked flatly.

"Deal with him," France replied simply. "He's over there. Just bring him somewhere where he can sleep off the alcohol and throw up when his hangover comes."

France pointed out England, head down at a makeshift bar in the corner of the room. The said nation looked awful, blonde hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and body hunched.

"Fine," he said rather reluctantly. "But if he vomits on me, you're paying for my dry-cleaning." France had left, though, blatantly ignoring what he said.

America rolled his eyes at this. France cared for his "friend", England more than he'd ever let on. It was an endearing fact about their "friendship". The pair pretended not to care but they each knew that the other did care… to some degree.

XXXoooXXX

America dragged England out of the conference in order to find a nice, quiet, dark room to lock him up in. It was a normal thing that would happen whenever he would go out and drink with England. England would get drunk and America would drag him back home and play nurse maid with him, which was basically letting England sleep and watching the Briton until he too fell asleep.

He had managed to find a nice dark room not too far from the conference room. There was a couch, chair, and water tank there which was more than adequate to handle the drunken Brit.

"C'mon, in you go," America said gently to Briton as he helped him inside the room.

"Ugh? Flying Mint Bunny, is that you?" England asked smiling a bit too widely in his drunken state. "You're such a naughty thing, aren't you?"

The Briton laughed to himself as America laid him down on the couch. It wasn't so bad dealing with England drunk. It certainly provided a bunch of good blackmail material.

"Shhh. England, you're just drunk," he whispered to the Englishman. "I'm not 'Flying Mint Bunny'." He hesitated slightly as he said that. "It's me America."

The Englishman groaned and rolled over on the couch. Alfred could have sworn that he heard something about being able to hold his liquor.

"America," he said his words slurring. "I've been meaning to tell you something."

The American rolled his eyes and gently forced the Englishman back on to the couch, who was trying to sit up.

"Not _now_, Artie," he sighed. "You're drunk."

Arthur sat up and this time Alfred didn't stop him. The Briton seemed extremely serious, or as serious as on could be when intoxicated. His emerald green eyes were locked on Alfred's cobalt eyes. And surprisingly, he seemed magically sober.

"I love you," he stated simply. His eyes' darted away from Alfred, seeming scared of what was said.

"Arthur, you don't know what you're saying," he mumbled as he got up to leave. "Look, I'll come back for you lat-"

"Don't leave," Arthur murmured drowsily his hand catching Alfred's wrist. He was drifting off to sleep, eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay awake. His breathing was slowing to a more relaxed pace a gentle up and down.

Arthur's hand had gone limp and let go of his wrist.

He stared down at the limp hand, with, he might dare say, fondness. That hand had done many things to him dried his tears, stabbed him in the back, shook his hand.

He slowly took his seat in the nearby chair and relaxed.

"I love you too," he whispered a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

XXXoooXXX

England woke up with an awful headache.

He groaned as he sat up slowly, resisting the urge to vomit all over himself. He was in a dark room which was practically bare save for a rubbish bin, water tank, and…Alfred fast asleep in a chair.

"Bloody hell," he whispered as he watched Alfred breathing in and out. "What happened?"

He tried to recall what had transpired many hours before, but he was pulling up blanks. He could remember nothing…except telling America he loved him and wanted him to stay.

"Bollocks," he cursed a bit too loudly, waking Alfred.

"Huh? Whuz goin' on?" The American muttered groggily sitting up slightly causing his glasses to fall a little off the bridge of his nose.

"Why can't I remember anything from the past," he paused and looked at his watch reading four twenty-five a.m. The last time he looked at his watch it was six o'clock p.m., "ten hours?"

The American groaned and threw back his head, his blonde hair fall across his face.

"You were drunk," Alfred replied. "You were a bit crazy last night. You were half-conscious and all that jazz so I had to drag you here."

'_Well that explains a bloody lot,' England thought to himself._

"Alfred, if anything happened last night I-"

America held up a hand interrupting him mid-speech.

"It's fine really," he said. "And I feel the same way completely."

"Really?" England asked somewhat shocked. He had expected America to have some sort of freak out over his whole little "confession" last evening.

"I'm glad you told me," America smiled.

His eyes narrowed at Alfred's casually attitude. He had expected a bit more from the American. He had expected an, "I love you."

"You're not saying it," England said matter- of- factly.

"Saying what?" he asked a bit taken aback.

"I love you."

America's azure widened a little a blush tinting his cheeks. His hand reached to the back of his head rubbing nervously.

"Wha-at? I-I don't… fine," he sighed. "I. Love. You."

England gave a warm smile. He sighed deeply. It finally happened.

"Good," he moved close to America, leaned forward, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Because you're with me now."

He moved away from America and watched his reaction. The said person was blushing and fighting off a bashful smile.

"Good," Alfred said pleasantly. "Cuz I was always yours."

"How many times do I have told you, use Queen's English," England sighed.

Alfred rolled his eyes and laughed. A smile lit up his face, brightening the room tenfold. And, England found himself happier than he had ever been in years.

XXXoooXXX

In the coming days, word America and England's relationship had reached the ears of the yaoi trio which then traveled to every other nation.

France rejoiced openly claiming that he had seen that relationship coming for a long time and danced around the conference room the next meeting.

Japan, too, celebrated quietly. He had been on the USUK team the whole time, contrary to Hungary's pairing of America and Russia.

Canada had been in a momentary stupor of surprise at his brother's newfound love. He had been placing his money on Japan the whole time.

Prussia, who was still bitter about losing to Italy, and Denmark, now fully clothed, were planning on crashing the new couple's first date.

Italy and Germany were surprisingly spending more time together stirring both Hungary and Liechtenstein's interest. Romano and Spain were spending more time together, too much to Romano's annoyance.

Russia was now being hounded not only by Belarus and, subtly, by Ukraine out of their undying romantic interest. And as a result China found himself stuck with both Russia and South Korea.

But overall, the nations had taken America and England's new relationship status rather well. There wasn't any revolt or world war which was a major step forward from Austria and Hungary's relationship in World War I.

Oh, America and England?

Well, let's just say that those have found out why their countries' have a "Special Relationship".

XXXoooXXX

**AN: Finally posting this! Okay, so I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot. I have several WIPs at the moment; Innocent Until Proven Guilty, Can't Smile Without You, and a soon to be publish series of SwissBel one-shots called Falling Slowly.**

**I have an apology for my awful grammar. This is un-betaed and I'm a suckish English writer, even though English is my first and at the moment only language. I hope to learn another language soon.**

**I also have to give credit to the asterisked (*) line in the story that I love! My best friend came up with that line so shout out to her if she's reading this. (You know who you are!)**

**Anyways, thank for your support! R&amp;R!**


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